


Mise-En-Place

by Saree



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7754791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saree/pseuds/Saree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How are you supposed to save your best friends when you can't even save yourself from hunger? [Riku-centric, multi-chapter fic.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. - Exploration

Was this…

"It's a lab," Riku noted to himself, brows furrowed. What was a laboratory doing inside of a castle? Wasn't this place supposed to be filled to the brim of magic and myths?

 _This isn't a storybook_ , he chided himself as he pushed the door open wide so the sunset's light filtered in, illuminating only a sliver of the room. Riku stepped in, brushing his gloved hands and leaving clean trails in the dust that'd gathered on the equipment. 

"Man, what a shame."

There were perfect beakers in perfect shape here, and as he reached for the small knob on a burner, he couldn't help but sigh in exasperation as it sputtered out. 

Of course nothing was _useful_ here.

Staring at the burner with his shoulders tense and gaze accusatory, he couldn't help but brush his palm against the large beaker atop it and watched his reflection stare back at him. 

… it was just a few days until the start of school, back home. He was supposed to be starting a new year of high school, but just _thinking_ about it made his heart ache. 

Softly, he told himself, "Nothing would've changed."

If he'd stayed, nothing would've changed. 

It'd be the same school year, with slightly different and more difficult classes. His brother would still breathe down his neck, his parents would still press him to be the perfect son, and he'd still be held up to someone he'd never be able to be.

He'd still be a _failure_ in their eyes. He'd be a failure no matter what, really.

Riku held a hand against his stomach and grimaced as it almost roared at him.

"Ugh, I'm starving." 

It was way past dinnertime on Destiny Islands, he had to figure—had he really gone a whole 24 hours without eating? He'd had plenty of water, at least, but… as he walked through the hallways of the dilapidated castle again, he came to a standstill, overlooking the broken, peeling walls. 

There was a kitchen here, before. 

For a moment, he wasn't sure what to think—the castle had really seemed just… completely unwelcoming, too detached from Destiny Islands. There were no tall spires or large libraries in his house, after all, and it was one of the biggest in the islands because of his old blood. 

If he just looked around at the dusty counters and broken beams, looked past the mold growing, though…

It made him feel a pang of homesickness. 

The kitchen back home didn't look much different, wasn't much smaller than this—back home, the walls were painted light yellow with delicate white trim, some wallpaper coating the wall space between cabinets and the counter. He could remember just how small he'd been, how he'd grown, through the years. At first, he hadn't been able to cook anything for himself, just slathering peanut butter on sandwich bread to tide himself over until his older brother would come home and make him a real snack, for his mother to come home and cook food.

He'd learned how to make miso soup in middle school, though. It was one of the easiest recipes he really knew how to make from scratch, but that was just about it. 

Colored light blue with mahogany cabinets and drawers, if he stood on his tiptoes, he could just barely see a box in the corner. Frowning, he glanced behind him before he pulled himself up, climbing over the broken concrete and shattered wood, peering at a little slate box. 

Of the entire kitchen, it looked to be the only thing that survived whatever _happened_ here—Riku frowned and heaved his body against a beam that was blocking the door, and glanced behind it. Looked like it was still hooked up to whatever electric system went through this dim, drafty castle… with a cursory glance into the box, it confirmed what he'd thought: it was an icebox. It was pretty small, just up to his waist, nothing like a real fridge—but more than enough. 

"Can't believe it's empty," he sighed in dismay. "What does she _eat_?"

 _Souls, probably_. Riku barely stifled his snort.

Looking back at the kitchen from this view, he wondered what kind of people used this spacious kitchen. It was a part of a castle—a king? His servants? 

It seemed to be the only one of its kind, after all. It had to have been _used_ …

With a bit more rummaging and a few bruises, scrapes and splinters from the debris, Riku freed a few cabinets and drawers. At the least there were plenty of utensils and kitchenware… 

The prize, of course, was finally being able to see the pantry. 

There was no way he'd be able to clean up this place on his own… the stove still had a full-sized plank of wood weighing down on it, and on top of that was concrete. He had no hope of actually moving that on his own… maybe if he had a Keyblade, but—

His eyes drifted down and away, bitter jealousy biting at the back of his throat like bile. 

"Whatever," he told himself, wrenching the door open to the pantry and flicking a light on. 

Looked like a few things had molded—bread, mostly—but most of the dried goods were okay… 

"Date, date," he told himself, reaching for a bag that seemed to have dried beans. The good thing about whoever had lived in this castle before— _obviously_ it wasn't Maleficent—was that they'd labelled and dated everything. 

He made a face as he found the date, written in ink on a tag. "Do beans expire? Ugh, there's no way I'm eating these..." 

His stomach growled loudly in despair, and Riku groaned along with it, crouching down and holding his hands against his stomach. 

He could either eat something in here—that was way past expired, or he could continue to grow hungry.

"No telling if I'd get sick," he told himself, watching the dark green mold that had overtaken a large piece of what looked like crusty bread, and just gagging at the thought of having to eat anything like that. 

He'd go hungry. For now.

If he was going to see other worlds, there had to be food there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I haven't written fic in years, but this little headcanon of mine couldn't be stopped. For those who might wonder what this fic will be about: this fic is about hunger, food, and cooking. There's probably going to be copious amounts of written foodporn, culinary terminology explained, and maybe even an actual recipe or two in the notes. As noted in the summary and tags, this is a mostly Riku-centric fic, though as we continue through the timeline, we'll come across other characters. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. - Grazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate times call for desperate measures.

_"Fairies do not need to consume any sort of sustenance," Maleficent said haughtily._

_Riku just stared at her with his brows raised and lips pursed in a thin line. "You're serious?"_

_She merely turned away, "Food should be available in other worlds… perhaps if you are interested, once we are in touch with our allies, you will find yourself other options."_

_Fairies didn't eat._

_They didn't eat? Riku bit back the telltale 'then what am I supposed to do?', because he'd already known the answer. Watching her back as she continued forwards, Riku tried to think of where they had been where he might actually be able to quell his hunger—he was really starting to see spots by now._

Maleficent had passed by this world, claiming that there was no one here strong enough to join their alliance, or something like that. His stomach had been growling too fiercely for him to pay attention—and his head _hurt_. Of course, Riku wasn't quite sure if that was because of how hard he'd been pushing himself or because of how many meals he'd skipped. 

_It's not like I haven't skipped meals before_ , he tried to reason with himself as he ducked into a dark alleyway. The street was paved—looked like a few lights were on. From the street level, the little restaurant looked nice and cozy, and Riku had stared at the crisp white plates, shiny silverware, and the clean linen and his stomach had nearly roared. 

In the back of his mind, he could hear his mother shrieking at him, saying something about how their family was _prestigious_ , that he needed to sit straight up in his chair and eat his consommé with the _bouillon_ spoon, not the _potage_ spoon! 

He laughed bitterly. She'd have a fit if she saw him now, searching through the trash for food. 

"So much for big adventure, huh?" he spoke softly to himself, shoving a heavy trash bag aside as he tried to block out the more potent stenches from the restaurant's trash. Cleaning fluid was obvious enough, but what was that sickly smell? 

He peered to the left, where the smell was so glaringly permeating the rest of the trash, uncovering a bunch of paper towels with black sludge on them. Riku paused, tilting his head, wondering what exactly that could be before his stomach reminded him what he was there for. 

Food. 

He needed food, and he was already feeling weak at the knee. 

Riku turned his focus back towards the paper towels and focused back on the freely tumbling scraps of cabbage and mushy tomatoes. Ugh—he'd need a bath after this, if he found anything he could actually eat… lobster shells, raw fish—a bunch of plastic containers… hm, actually, he might be able to use those…

Ah!

His hand just barely grazed something covered in plastic. Thin plastic, like plastic wrap—with a quick shift, he pulled on it, dislodging a batch of fingerling potatoes from underneath scraps of lemon and orange peels. They didn't look too bad at all, as Riku recalled the way his mom used to turn the potatoes in the store over and over, seeing them for impurities. There were a few lighter spots, he noticed, but upon a careful caress by his fingers, he knew it wasn't mold or anything. 

He'd berate them for being wasteful, except that was actually helping him, right now. 

Besides, it was a restaurant. They probably raked in the dough. 

With a bit more searching, he'd found half-cut leeks in plastic as well, and he supposed he could do a leek and potato soup. He'd had it enough times, it couldn't be too hard, right? 

Anything was worth not starving. 

As he heard the door swing shut just as he straightened, though, he quickly ducked out of sight, peering to see a dark-haired woman in a white coat step outside, put her hands on her hips, and shake her head. 

"Hey, hey," a lanky man ran out after her, looking concerned as he put a hand on her shoulder. "Antoine didn't come, but we can fix it." 

"How?" she said, terse before she calmed and placed a hand on his chest. "You shouldn't be out here." 

"Colette, trust me," he put his hands on her shoulders, brows furrowed even as he leaned into her face. "We can do this. So we're out a _tournant_! Remy and you can do it. I _know_ you can."

Colette rubbed her forehead, though there was a small smile to her face. "Okay. I will do it," and then she snapped up, pointing her finger into his face, making him lean back. "But you will owe me."

He managed a chuckle. "Breakfast in bed?"

"I suppose that will do," she acquiesced. "I will figure out the details later, and Remy will have to hire a new _tournant_."

"More like _I'll_ have to…" 

Riku listened as their voices faded and the door shut again, and then let out a sigh of relief. 

Truth be told, he felt a _little_ guilty, knowing they were going through some kind of trouble—but this food had been thrown out anyway, right? 

Feeling movement at the bottom of his shoe, he watched as a rat scampered across with mild amusement. 

Better make sure this one didn't make its way over to the kitchen.

Reaching over quickly, he scooped the little critter up, setting the plastic-wrapped items down carefully on the lid of a trash can. "Hey," he said softly. "You probably don't wanna go in there—they look pretty booked. Need a reservation two months in advance kinda booked. I think I could find something for you, though." 

The rat looked dubious.

"Hey, I already found myself dinner," Riku defended himself, tilting his head to the fingerling potatoes and leeks. "I'm set, you're not."

The rat almost seemed to sigh before he scampered up Riku's arm and perched at his shoulder, looking dubious still, even as Riku smiled at him. 

After already having gone through the trash once, Riku found it easier to spot things he'd overlooked—finding a cluster of grapes, though, he pulled them out from the flimsy plastic he'd found them in, showing them to the rat and chuckling quietly when he seemed to approve. 

"Hold on a second," he chastised, and breathed in slowly. With closed eyes, he focused, and exhaled sharply when a Blizzard spell erupted from his fingertips, his small smile turning bright and wide. So it worked! Now, for the Fire spell, to get all the ice off…

He hissed softly as his fingertips felt the flick of fire, but while slightly warmer than usual, the grapes didn't seem to have suffered. "Look, all clean." He waved the cluster in front of the rat, before he settled it on a stack of crates and let his little rat friend scamper to eat. 

Now that he thought of it… 

He peered at the leeks and potatoes and rummaged through the trash again. Maybe he was getting greedy, but--… he'd need something else for it to taste good, right?

♦♦♦

Riku didn't notice the rat scampering away.

"Remy, Remy!" he hissed as he squirmed through a hole in the window, the dark grey chef-rat perking up from his little staircase. 

"Hey, Raymond! Haven't seen you around lately—"

"You gotta come see this!"

He quickened his gait to come face to face with the other rat, brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

"There's a _human_ outside! And he _fed_ me!" 

Remy's brows quirked. Now, Linguini was one thing, but for a stranger who hadn't had any reason to be nice to rats, that was quite another.

"That's great?" he ventured, expecting the story to continue. 

Raymond got onto his hind legs, giving the chef a nod. "He's lookin' for something to eat. Thought maybe you could return the favor for me somehow?"

"Well—we're kind of in the weeds here, but—you know, what can I do when someone's nice to my cousin?" Remy rubbed the back of his furry neck, before waving his hands, flustered. "Al _right_ , I'll take a look and see what I can do. We could always use a little more help."

He wouldn't be here if Linguini hadn't been perceptive enough to realize that he wasn't a pest. 

Maybe it was time to pay it forward. 

As his cousin scampered away to the top deck where most of the family was, Remy surveyed the kitchen before moving towards the window where he saw a scruffy-looking human, small for his age and looking woozy. The silver hair was definitely weird—stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Hm. 

Starkly, Remy remembered the woozy, exhausted state he'd been in after a night without food, in his and Linguini's early days of working together. Maybe they were a human, but it wasn't worth leaving him hungry…

"What are you looking at?" came Colette's voice, peering out of the window as the boy staggered on his feet, rubbing his eyes. She gave a sharp gasp, and then snarled out, "That is _it_!" 

Before Remy could stop her, she was out the double doors, and the chef could only cringe when he saw her dart towards him.

There was a distinct look of fear in the small human's eyes as he made to run, but the steps he took were too slow—Remy squinted, before he saw the human sway, holding his head and falling down unceremoniously. 

He grimaced, letting out a soft 'ooh', and Colette couldn't help but actually be surprised, glancing back at the window. 

Remy shrugged helplessly before he made a big motion of swinging his arms backwards, trying to imply to bring him back. Someone rummaging through their rash could mean big problems if the human got sick—and Remy didn't want that on his conscience.

♦♦♦

"Mmn…" Riku blearily opened his eyes as he woke up, jolting awake as he peered around the small desk area. Frightened and guilty, he wasn't sure what to do—he'd just meant to get an onion or something to go with the soup and he'd looked up to see the woman from before beelining at him like she was about to bodycheck him!

Of course he'd wanted to run!

His body, though—it didn't seem to want to, and far before Riku had ever hit the floor, he'd passed out. Pink flooded his face at recalling that embarrassing moment, but as far as he could tell, she wasn't inside. 

The office looked fairly empty, he noted, though it was dark and classy with soft jazz in the background, clearly cut off from the rest of the kitchen. He could see the woman working on the line with a crew of other cooks through the sky-blue blinds and pursed his lips, trying to get up before he felt tiny pressure on his arm, looking down at another rat. 

"Boy, this restaurant sure has a rat problem," he murmured idly, before raising his hand to his head again.

Remy rolled his eyes, hopping off of his arm as he paced. "Doesn't look like he _ate_ anything, so at least we're safe there. He looks… pale? I guess?" He squinted at Riku. "I think that's pale for a human. If you don't eat, I guess you would be pale—or sick. Ugh, _what_ if I just brought a sick person in? He could infect the _food_!"

"I'm not sick," Riku said quickly, and the rat stopped to stare at him. 

Getting on his hind legs, Remy spoke loudly, with fervor, "Can you actually _hear_ me? You can hear me talk?"

"Uh, yeah?" he tilted his head. "Listen, it's weird for me too—but you talk just like I do."

He made an overjoyed sound, clasping onto his head as he paced around. "This is _great_! Finally, someone who can actually listen, not just play Charades all the time—okay, maybe I can finally… no!" 

He shook his head, ears flapping as he turned back and pointed at Riku accusingly. "You! You can't go rummaging through the trash, if you get sick, we could get in trouble! Isn't there a soup kitchen or something you can go to?"

Riku grimaced. Oh, he'd… tried, honestly, but they'd been so insistent on him being a child that they wanted to keep him inside of the building. Riku had ended up bolting so he would be able to leave before the portal Maleficent had conjured for him closed at midnight. "… not really," he said slowly, and then sighed. "Sorry—I'll put it back, but it was in the trash anyway, and—I guessed that it shouldn't be put to waste."

Remy opened his mouth to respond, little paw out to respond, before he deflated. 

He wasn't _wrong_ , not really—a good chef knew to use every bit of their inventory to make their dishes. Wasting something like a good head of leeks or a bunch of fingerling potatoes should be shameful—he _was_ ashamed! Who had thrown these out, anyway? 

"Uuuugh… that's my fault. I've _got to_ keep a closer eye on everyone as _chef de cuisine_. But that doesn't leave you off the hook," Remy insisted. 

"A … what?" 

" _Chef de cuisine_ ," he said, tone slower. "The chief of the kitchen, in charge of everything. It's a part of Escoffier's _brigade de cuisine_. Everyone out there," he gestured to the blinds, voice growing lighter, more excited. It'd been a while since they opened La Ratatouille, but he never got any less excited to explain things like this to his family and friends. "They've got a unique job all their own. The _sous-chef_ ," he gestured to Colette, "she's the second-in-command, but she's practically the head honcho around here since I'm… well, I'm me. And that's the _saucier_ ," he gestured to a man who dipped the back of a metal spoon into a sauce, seeing if the consistency was right. "he takes care of sauces. _Poissonnier_ , the fish cook—we got a bunch of fresh cod tonight, it's great… anyway," Remy realized he was getting ahead of himself, shaking his head. 

"Look, La Ratatouille hasn't been around a long time, we're still getting on our feet, here. You can't go around stealing food, even if it's about to be thrown out," he said, his voice a little softer as he crouched down, watching the interest in Riku's eyes fade away to some guilt. 

And then his expression changed, and he snorted a laugh. 

"And what's so funny?" Remy asked, tilting his body and giving him a dubious expression. 

"Ratatouille," he snickered. "Because you're a rat?"

Remy snorted. "Captain Obvious." 

"Then where should I be going to get something to eat, when I don't have any munny?" Riku furrowed a brow at the rat, and Remy's eyes slowly drifted towards the blinds again. 

With his ears pricked back, Remy just smiled. "You know… I think I have an idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With that, we're getting the ball rolling. Since updating fic isn't something I regularly do, I'm hesitant to say when I'll update next, but I'll do my best to do so soon. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave me your thoughts!


End file.
